Forty-Three Minutes
by Hidden Treasures
Summary: The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, each tick of the clock seeming to take a lifetime. His heart was beating faster even than the seconds-hand.


"Do we _have_ to spend the night at your mother's?"

Rose sighed, having gone over this argument with him for several weeks, ever since her mother requested (demanded) their presence at Christmas. The _entirety_ of Christmas, midnight to midnight, and thus they (Rose) agreed to spend the night at the mansion on Christmas Eve. The Doctor was none too pleased when she sprung this up on him, and had been petulant and sullen every time he was reminded of the plans.

"For the hundredth time, Doctor, yes," Rose said wearily, sick to the teeth of this conversation. That, and she was really trying to watch the roads.

It was a lot snowier in this universe than their last. Scientists and climatologists blamed global warming and climate change, making the weather more extreme and unpredictable. Torchwood then blamed that on all of the fiddling that had been done to the Void. Either way, it was a lot snowier in the winters, and while Rose usually didn't mind it, she did mind the precipitation when she was trying to drive home.

The snowstorm had started sooner than predicted, and it was only getting worse. Most of the roads were covered, and were getting slicker by the minute. Rose just wanted to be at home in her flat, settled down for the night with the Doctor.

Rose only listened with one ear as the Doctor went on his well-worn gripe about how he would much rather stay home for Christmas, and didn't she agree?

"C'mon, Rose," he whined, flopping down onto their sofa in their flat, idly flipping through channels on their television.

He didn't mind Jackie, he really didn't. He'd even go as far to say he was fond of the woman. He had realized how much he genuinely liked the woman until she and Rose were lost to him.

But he'd wanted to spend their first major holiday together alone with Rose, trying to make up for all of the Christmases they'd missed before.

"Do what you want me to say, Doctor?" came her irritable reply, making him frown. She knew he was (mostly) kidding, didn't she? "But _I'm_ spending the night at Mum's. You can stay at the flat then join us for dinner if you want."

"What, all on my own?" he cajoled. "That's no fun. Fine, I suppose I'll go with you to Jackie's."

"Welcome to life on the slow path," she said shortly.

He frowned again. If he'd known she was in such a mood, he wouldn't have started harping on this topic again. His complaints about her mother usually made her smile.

"Rose, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I really don't mind spending Christmas with your family."

"Sure," she said. "Look, it's really coming down. I gotta… oh, _shit_!"

"Rose?" he asked, sitting bolt upright, gripping the phone tightly to his ear.

The Doctor's heart seemed to stop completely when he heard the most deafening squeal of metal against metal, and more oaths from Rose. His vision went spotty as he called her name again, but the connection was lost.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt completely numb as he sat there with his phone to his ear, listening to the buzzing in his ears. His mouth was dry and his hands were shaking as he pounded the redial button.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he pleaded. "Please pick up. Please, please, please."

 _Hi, this is Rose Tyler. Leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Ta!_

"Goddammit!" he shouted, slamming his phone onto the cushion beside him.

He rubbed his fists against his temples, massaging away the sharp ache that was building there.

There could be any number of reasons she wasn't answering. Maybe her mobile had died. Right. Yes. That had to be it. She was absolutely fine. Nothing to worry about.

 _Breaking news!_

The Doctor lifted his gaze to the television, where he'd paused his aimless channel-surfing on a news station. There was a live, aerial footage of a massive pileup plastered to the screen. Fire and medical crews were shown around the smoking wreckage, snow swirling around them.

 _This just in, a multi-vehicle accident on the M4 motorway._

The Doctor's breath whooshed from his lungs. Rose usually took the M4 on her way home from work.

He stopped that thought cold.

No, no. She was _fine_. She was absolutely, positively, completely, one-hundred percent okay. She just couldn't answer her phone at the moment. Such a safe, conscientious driver, his Rose was. Yep. She just didn't want the distraction of phoning him. Any minute now, she'd be walking through that door, that special smile she saved just for him on her lips.

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, and the Doctor had taken to pacing the flat, his phone in his hand, willing it to ring.

He prayed to every deity he could think of that Rose was safe, and whole, and unharmed. She had to be. Please.

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, each tick of the clock seeming to take a lifetime. His heart was beating faster even than the seconds-hand. Their bloody clock must be broken. Every time the Doctor checked the time, it always seemed to be two minutes after he'd last checked it.

Finally, forty-three minutes (and sixteen seconds) after his call cut out with Rose, there was a knock at the door. The Doctor nearly dropped his phone in surprise. Why was someone knocking? Rose had a key, she could let herself in. Nobody should be knocking.

The Doctor felt nauseated as he mechanically walked to the door. If there was a policeman, or a neighbor, or someone who wasn't Rose on the other side of that door, he was 99.9% sure he would collapse on the spot.

His hands trembled and he couldn't quite catch his breath as he turned the lock and swung open the door.

"Blimey, this storm's awful."

The Doctor's knees threatened to give out when Rose pushed past him and into their flat. Flakes of snow drifted in with the gusty wind. He numbly watched her hang her coat on the peg and fluff out her hair, which had bits of snow and ice clinging to it.

"Rose?" he croaked, kicking the door shut as he slowly walked up to her.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Rose," he whimpered, catching her in his arms and crushing her to him.

He felt dizzy with relief and his heart was thudding too slowly and too heavily in his chest. He buried his face in her hair, and inhaled that familiar, soothing scent of lavender and vanilla. _She was safe. She was safe. She was safe._

That was his mantra as his arms tightened around her, feeling as though he couldn't get close enough. He murmured her name into her neck again and again.

"Doctor, you're scaring me," she whispered, stroking soothing circles onto his back.

"I thought… on the news, it said… I thought you were…"

Rose finally looked over his shoulder and to the news story that was broadcasting.

Realization struck, and she whispered, "Oh. Oh, Doctor. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's okay. I'm okay."

He pulled back a fraction to look into her eyes, assuring himself she was okay. But a flash of white caught his eye, and his gaze skated up to the bandage on her forehead. He inhaled sharply and gently traced his fingertips around the red, angry skin.

"Had a bit of a wreck of my own," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the sofa. "Nothing too serious, considering. I was five minutes from home, and going through this intersection, and didn't see that the car coming from the side was having trouble stopping. He crashed into me. He banged up my front bumper pretty bad, but that's about it. Must've hit my head on the wheel. I didn't realize until a medic took a look at it."

"When you're call cut out like that…" the Doctor's throat closed as he relived the past forty-three minutes, the most painful forty-three minutes of his lives.

"I'm so sorry you had to hear that," she apologized. "My phone got knocked about, and it broke apart. I managed to find the battery but not the memory card, so I couldn't phone. A tow came and picked up the car, and I hailed a cab, but by the time I got home, I'd realized I'd forgotten to take my key to the flat."

"I was so scared," he whispered, pulling her into his lap.

He relished the warm weight of her in his arms and never wanted to let go of her again.

"I know, I'm so sorry," she murmured, resting her forehead against his.

"I kept thinking about the last thing I said to you," he whimpered. "You could've been dead, and the last thing I ever talked to you about was some daft argument about your mum."

"Shh," she soothed, nuzzling her nose against his. "You know that I know you love me. And you know how much I love you, my Doctor."

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you," he admitted.

Rose's heart clenched at the raw fear in his voice. She couldn't imagine that state he would be in if something more serious had happened to her tonight. She knew the mess she would be, if roles were reversed, and reckoned he wouldn't be much better off. She hated the thought of him on his own, especially now, when he didn't have a TARDIS to distract him from his emotions.

She pressed her lips to his forehead for a brief moment before cradling his head against her shoulder. She rested her cheek against the top of his head while her fingers massaged though his hair.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered fiercely. "Not if I have any say. I'm not leaving you."

"I'm holding you to that," he said through a watery chuckle.

"And my earlier point still stands," she said lightly, wriggling around to get more comfortable against him. "We're spending Christmas Eve with Mum, Dad, and Tony."

"Oh, Rose," he whispered into her hair, tightening his arms around her waist. "I'll spend every bloody day with them, if that means you're spending it with me."

Rose smiled into his chest, and contented herself to spend the evening in the Doctor's embrace.


End file.
